


Day of the Dead

by TheTacticianAlchemist



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Day of the Dead, F/M, Family, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 02:52:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5400134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTacticianAlchemist/pseuds/TheTacticianAlchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morgan’s whole body seems to deflate. He can’t meet his father’s eyes. “It’s called… The Day of the Dead. You’re supposed to remember those you’ve lost by doing the things they liked to do.”</p><p>[Chrobin Week Day 5: Holidays. Mostly Father/Son bonding.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day of the Dead

**Author's Note:**

> GIVE IT UP FOR DAY FIVE
> 
> I was talking to chromsai and thank Naga she can explain holidays to me... of course this is more adapted to fit FEA
> 
> (thanks saibutt)

“Father!” Morgan’s voice sounds from the other side of the door and he pounds rather than knocks on the wood. “Wake up!”

Chrom has been awake for awhile now, staring at the empty space on the left side of the bed. But his son’s urging prompts him to snap from his reverie and get him out of bed, and he goes to answer the door in his pajamas.

Morgan is already dressed in his tactician’s coat. The boy is bouncing, his fists closed and his dark eyes on fire. “Get dressed! Today’s a big day!”

Without warning, he pushes Chrom into the room and toward the closet. Rather than the more formal attire that Chrom has taken to wearing at Frederick’s insistence (otherwise, Chrom wouldn’t care about his appearance), Morgan pulls out Chrom’s uniform for battle, the one with only one sleeve and the mismatched boots. “Get dressed, Father!”

Chrom does as he says, beginning to take off his pajamas while Morgan respectfully turns around. “Is something special going on today…?” Chrom asks, unsure.

“I’ve planned a bunch of things today,” Morgan prattles on, starting to count off on his fingers. “Breakfast, then chess in the garden--we have to go see the carnations, too--and maybe some sword practice, I was hoping? And for lunch I asked the chefs to make eel liver pie, and, um, I asked Aunt Lissa if we could all go out on a horseback ride this afternoon--”

Chrom finishes by fastening his cape around his shoulders and putting on his pauldron, then puts his gloved hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “Is today some sort of special occasion?” he asks as he starts to lead the boy out of his room and toward the dining room.

“Ah…” Morgan pokes his index fingers together. “Not in Ylisse, no. But um, Henry’s been teaching me and Inigo about Plegian traditions, and today’s a, um, a special day.”

Chrom frowns. “A holiday? What’s it called?”

Morgan’s whole body seems to deflate. He can’t meet his father’s eyes. “It’s called… The Day of the Dead. You’re supposed to remember those you’ve lost by doing the things they liked to do.”

“Oh.” Chrom’s heart sinks. “Those are all…”

His son nods, still looking down at his feet. “If you don’t want to, it’s okay.”

As sad as Chrom is to think about his missing--most likely dead--wife, seeing his son in front of him with such sad eyes makes Chrom angry with himself. “No, Morgan. Don’t worry about it. Let’s have some breakfast, then do all the things you planned.”

Morgan straightens up, his lips spreading wide as his eyes start to shine. He nods. “Yeah, okay! Let’s go!”

()()()

Breakfast is eggs and bear meat, something Chrom hasn’t had in a long time. Morgan chatters on, talking about his lessons and his playdates with little Luci, who’s off having her own etiquette lessons with Frederick. Chrom is glad that his son does most of the talking, because he can’t really find it in himself to say more than that they should take Luci with them when they go riding in the afternoon. Morgan agrees and adds on that he wishes Lucina hadn’t gone off on her own.

When they finish, they head out into the garden to play chess among the the roses and carnations. They turn quiet as they focus on their moves, but Chrom knows from the beginning that he’s outclassed. For a few moments, he lets himself fall into the dream that he’s playing Robin, losing spectacularly to her. But then Morgan loudly proclaims “Checkmate!”  and pins in his king, and Chrom wakes up.

He smiles at his son. “You’re far too good at this.”

Morgan grins and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, am I? Hehe.”

Chrom is silent for a moment, then says, “Have you ever tried to wield Falchion?”  
Morgan falters. “Yes… Lucina’s Falchion. Nothing really happened, though…”

“Really?” Chrom frowns. “I’m sure it would choose you. Would you try with mine?”

Morgan hesitates, but ultimately nods. “All right.”

They set up an area in the courtyard with a few logs, and Chrom gives Falchion to Morgan. Morgan steels himself, then pulls the sword from its sheathe and admires the blade in his hand for a moment. He hands the sheathe over to his father and takes the sword in both hands. He does a small drill, taking a few practice swings; the power imbued in the blade makes it a bit unruly, but he handles it superbly for someone with such little experience with it.

“Try cutting that log,” Chrom urges, and Morgan hesitates. Chrom nods encouragingly, and finally Morgan’s brows set into a determined line above his eyes.

He slices at the log, the arc of his swing appearing almost blue.

Nothing is apparently different about the log.

Morgan waits for a moment, and then his shoulders fall. He stands up fully from his position and turns away.

Chrom frowns and inspects the log, tapping it a bit, and now he sees the cut, as sharp and precise as if Naga had done the job herself. Chrom smiles, but when he notices that Morgan is still looking away, he comes up behind his son and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you disappointed?”

Morgan doesn’t answer right away. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I…” He puts his hand on his arm. “I don’t want to disappoint you or Lucina, or Mother…”

“Hey.” Chrom gives his shoulder a shake. “This sword is a finicky blade. Being chosen is an honor, yes, but even if it’s from Naga I’m not going to put stock in her decisions above my own, above my own bonds. You’re a smart and powerful mage and swordsman. You’re a tactician as smart as your mother. You’re as brave as she is, too. And… Haha, she’d probably say that you’re as stubborn as I am, wouldn’t she…?”

Morgan hesitantly turns to look at his father, and Chrom catches sight of the water on his eyelashes. “You mean it?”

“Of course I do! And have more faith in yourself, okay?” He nods in the direction of the log. “You were perfect, just look again.”

Morgan frowns and turns back to the log, peering closely. He reaches out to touch it, and just like that, the log splits apart, cleanly in two.

Chrom rubs Morgan’s hair. “Even if this hadn’t been the case...don’t sell yourself too short, okay? And know you’ll never disappoint me or your mother.”

()()()

They spar, testing out Morgan’s prowess with the divine blade, and then return inside for lunch with Luci. She’s all too excited to have eel liver pie--something that Chrom can’t share in with his children--and then they go to the stables to saddle some horses for a ride. Somehow, Frederick hears about the plans and insists that he join in, and this ropes into Lissa coming along as well. Chrom rolls his eyes as some inevitible teasing and bickering starts to come into play.

For the first time in a long time, he feels happy.

Morgan doesn’t tell them where they’re really going, but they head in a southern direction. Chrom guesses quickly that they’re going to Southtown, however--or, at least, nearby. Frederick and Lissa exchange looks as well, but no one voices the thought aloud.

They pass the time with idle chatter, or pointing out birds and squirrels to Luci. Sometimes she squeals in excitement and scares the animals off, but with a bit of guidance from Chrom she starts to quiet down and take in the scenery with more quiet reverence...though she still bounces in the saddle in front of Chrom.

He pets her little head and places a kiss on the top of her hair, which is as soft as Robin’s.

“Daddy,” Luci says, “did Mommy like horseback rides too? ‘Cause I really like them!”

He laughs, even though he does notice Frederick and Lissa’s wary looks to each other at the mention of his late wife. “She liked going on picnics. She always said the saddle was a bit too uncomfortable for her, so she would distract herself by talking to me or looking at the birds.”

“Mommy’s a robin, right?”

“Robin is her name.”

“She isn’t a bird!” Morgan calls from up ahead, turning his head around and laughing to them. “Then you would be a little bird, too!”

Luci laughs and extends her arms like she’s trying to fly. “Maybe I am!”

“I’ll believe that when you fly, young miss,” Frederick says, a smile on his lips. Lissa giggles.

()()()

Chrom opens his eyes after just twenty minutes of lying in the sun-soaked field. He looks up at the blue and white sky and remembers the times of peace when sometimes he and Robin would escape their work and nap in the garden. Sometimes they did it while on the road too, but that was only rarely. Usually Robin ran herself too ragged during campaigns to indulge in even a short rest.

Chrom sits up, noting without surprise that Frederick still stands a short ways away to keep watch. The exalt turns his head to his children, smiling when he sees Luci snuggled up against her big brother, who’s sprawled out and drooling.

 _The Day of the Dead, huh?_ Chrom muses. _I’ll have to thank you, Morgan. This day has been good. I didn’t know it would be._

Lissa sits up as well and points at Morgan. “Look at him,” she whispers.

Chrom stifles a laugh. “He gets that from me and Robin both.”

A hesitant smile appears on the princess’s face. “It was right around here that we found her, huh?”

“Yeah.” Chrom smiles, turning his head to take in their surroundings once more. “It was over by that tree, wasn’t it?” he says, pointing.

“Uh-huh.”

Chrom stands, brushing off the stray grasses from his uniform. Lissa giggles at the sight and says, “Isn’t your outfit a sight for sore eyes?”

“Ha ha,” Chrom says. He motions to his sister. “Come on, let’s go explore a little bit.”

“W-wait!” Lissa hisses, hurrying to her feet. Frederick almost starts after them, but Chrom points out his sleeping children, and the knight gives Chrom a tired look, but remains at attention all the same. Chrom has to bite back a laugh.

As they walk away, Lissa hurries to match his pace. “You seem...different today. Like you used to.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “I’m glad to see you like this again.”

Chrom doesn’t quite know how to respond for a moment, but then he smiles and says, “I miss Robin, but that doesn’t mean I have to be sad all the time.”

Something catches his eye, and he slows to a stop. Lissa keeps walking for a pace or two, but halts and turns back to him, her eyebrow quirked.

Chrom points to the trunk of the tree they’re heading toward.

Someone in purple robes is lying on the ground, napping.


End file.
